Catherine's Adventures in the Parallel World
by non-damsel
Summary: Catherine Morland and Rhys Tilney are from separate worlds, literally. Well, not literally but close enough. Catherine battles disapproving relative and her own sci-fi tinged fantasies in the quest for true love. Modern Northanger Abbey, with scifi. Yay!
1. Catherine in New York

**Catherine's Adventures in the Parallel World  
**_1. Catherine in New York_

When Catherine Morland arrived in New York City with her aunt and uncle Allen she was thinking about Lee Adama.

More specifically, she was thinking of that episode from season two when he first took charge of a Battlestar, when the commander of the Pegasus turned to him and said, "You have the Conn," and the cameras sort of spiraled around him, and thunderstruck he repeated the words to himself before doing some pretty amazing Cylon ass-kicking.

She was thinking about this because the truth was that the first seventeen years of her life had been a disappointment. That didn't mean they'd been bad. But they hadn't been extraordinary either. The only extraordinary things, as far as Catherine could tell, had been the things leading up to her life. Everything afterwards, everything that had actually happened to her, had been ordinary.

These were the events leading up to Catherine's life, or at least the story as Catherine would tell it, which may or may not have been a somewhat fictionalized version:

There was a girl named Caroline Allen (but everyone called her Caro or occasionally Duck), a posh, pretty girl who might have been a little snobbish and was certainly moneyed. She was twenty-three, it was summer, she was driving across Pennsylvania in the direction of Philadelphia, and she was running out of gas. She took an exit. She was listening to the radio. She may have hit something—she must have—for she heard a pop, felt a bump, looked behind her and saw smoke. She pulled over. Her tire was not only flat, it was shredded.

Caroline was not going anywhere special, but she was wearing a dress—a very expensive dress. And she was wearing very expensive heals, and her nails were very expensively manicured. She squared her shoulders. And then she started walking. She walked, in her expensive shoes, ignoring the cars honking as they passed, to the nearest building. It was a gas station, and she used their phone to dial roadside assistant.

When the tow-truck finally came it was driven by a boy who looked about her age. He had blonde hair, too long. He was cute, and seemed nice, but Caroline thought he looked dirty. She supposed all mechanics were dirty. She rode up front with him. The cab of the tow-truck smelled like cigarettes. He played country music. He asked her name, and when she told him it was Caro he looked at her and said, "That's not a name, that's like vegetable oil."

She was taken aback. She said, "People call me Duck." But then she realized that wasn't any kind of name either.

His name was Bradley, and he never again called her anything but Duck. Never once.

Bradley drove Caroline to the auto shop where he worked. He got the car off the tow-truck, while she watched. When he was done with that he stood for a moment and looked at her, gave her the up-and-down, arms folded across his chest and developing a little bit of a grin.

"Want to learn to change a tire?" he asked.

And Caroline knew she wasn't going to Philadelphia.

She had a credit card without a limit. She put herself up in the nearest motel. It was called the Talley Ho-tel, although the one of the _l's _in Talley had fallen down. Her family would've called it pitifully substandard, but Caroline was charmed. She liked the dingy carpets and marked-up walls. She liked Bradley's dirty mechanic shop, and going to rowdy little-league baseball games, and drinking beers, and eating off the value menu at fast food chains. It was as if she'd falling through a rift in space and landed in a parallel world, and she loved it.

Her father thought she was in Philadelphia with her mother. She called her mother and told her she'd decided to stay with her dad.

It lasted two months. It might have lasted longer. But in August Caroline realized that she was three weeks late. Blue-collar life suddenly didn't seen so novel.

Had she been in love with Bradley? Probably not. She had liked him, but what she had loved was the different sort of life he had, the orgasmic strangeness of it all. And that was a kind of love that didn't last once the strangeness wore off.

Bradley had been in love with her. When she told him she was pregnant, he was thrilled. He thought they should get married. But it was too late. For Caroline knew exactly what she didn't want, and that was Bradley Morland. She didn't want his life, or his baby, or his sweaty sex between the thin motel sheets. She wanted to find the rift she had fallen through and climb her way out of the parallel world, back into the proper one.

Her brother, David, flew in the next day to drive her back home. She had the baby because Bradley had wanted it, and when it was born she gave it to him. It was a peace offering, a parting gift.

That baby was Catherine. And then came all the ordinary things.

Her childhood had been dully pleasant, and pleasantly dull. She never saw her mother (they told her she was in California now), but her Uncle David came round to visit often, eventually along with his pretty, neurotic wife. When she was thirteen, Catherine's father married a woman named Marge who worked as a nurse and had a son named Jamie two years older than Catherine. Then Marge and Bradley had three more children. Catherine loved all her siblings; she was wonderful with the younger ones. But she especially loved Jamie. He was her best friend in all the world.

So Catherine grew up until she was eighteen, and it was all rather nice and she really couldn't complain. And yet, and yet. Catherine could not quite explain it. She had always felt as though she had not been given the keys. In eighteen years, she had had no adventures whatsoever. She had never taken her life out for a drive.

But now, stepping out of the cab and into the moist summer heat, Catherine knew she was getting her chance. And she said to herself, as she pulled her luggage into the sort of hotel she had never been in before and would most likely never be in again, "Cath, you have the Conn."

Then her phone rang, and it was Jamie, and she answered.

He said, "How's the weather, Cath?"

It was Jamie's favorite question, and it was never meant to be taken literally but was rather more of a how-do-you-do. Catherine said, "You have to see this place. It's like my first alien world." For the lobby of the hotel was certainly impressive. It was especially impressive to someone like Catherine, who had spent her life in not the fanciest parts of Reading.

Jamie laughed. "Brad said if he let you go out there nothing round here would ever be good enough for you again."

"When you coming up?" she asked.

He sighed. "I don't know, Cath. You know Brad had to lay some people off three weeks ago. I'm not sure it'd be too grateful of me to go flitting off to New York for a week when there are a lot of good guys sitting at home who don't want to be. Just doesn't seem like the time to be asking for favors."

"But he'd give you a few days off," Cath said, who was now in an elevator on her way up to the fifth floor.

She heard Jamie sigh. She could picture him frowning as he said, "I'm tired of people talking that he only keeps me on because I'm his wife's kid."

People talked because people liked to talk, whether or not they were right. In this case, they honestly weren't. For a twenty-year-old boy, Jamie was an excellent mechanic and almost annoyingly responsible. Catherine said, "It's not true. You're the best. You'll be running the place someday."

"That I will," Jamie said. "Tell you what, you check out this Izzie Thorpe for me. If she's cute enough to be worth it, maybe I'll try to swing up there for a couple days."

"She's adorable."

"You haven't seen her yet."

"Right. Better go. Live long and prosper," Catherine said, for she and the Allens had arrived in their suite.

"Later," Jamie said, and they hung up.

Catherine spent the next hour combing over the room. It was quite obvious to both her Uncle David and Aunt Gail that she was in awe, possibly also in love. If David was looking a little worried, it was because he knew his sister's story. He was afraid Catherine might turn into that story, only backwards. They would have to be careful with her.

Catherine knew her mother's story too, and perhaps she should have been worried herself. After all, she knew enough about parallel worlds to know they were dangerous. Take the Mirror Universe for example, or Bad Wolf Bay. Parallel worlds were nothing but trouble.

They were in New York on vacation and meeting an old friend of Aunt Gail's whose name was Nancy Thorpe. Nancy Thorpe had two kids, Izzie who was Catherine's age and John who was a little older. So the Allen's had brought Cath along not only because they like her along to places, but to be friends with Izzie and John. It was also her graduation present.

The Thorpes were arriving tomorrow. Until then Catherine had time to explore. She found the vending machines. She found the exercise room. Eventually, she found the pool.

Catherine liked indoor pools. The Allens had one. Actually, it wasn't the pools she liked. It was the rooms indoor pools were in. They were always sort of sticky-hot, but clean smelling. They reminded her of somewhere tropical. Not that Catherine had ever been anywhere tropical in her life. But she imagined these places were something like indoor pools.

"Going in?" someone asked her.

She turned around. The person addressing her was a boy (a man? when did the difference happen?) maybe a few years older than her. He was tall. He had brown hair, slightly unruly, and was wearing a smile that was friendly but also a little mischievous. He was fully clothed, like she was, and his hands were in his pockets.

She said, "If you are."

His grin widened. "Careful. I'll take you up on the challenge."

They stood, ten feet apart, regarding each other.

And although he was the nicest looking boy Catherine had ever seen, and she would have liked to impress him with her adventurousness, she knew she couldn't jump into the pool fully clothed. Because it wasn't what people who stayed in posh hotels did, surely it wasn't. And when you found yourself in a parallel world, you had to follow its rules.

"Maybe next time," she said.

If he was disappointed, he didn't show it. He simply rocked back on his heals a little and kept grinning and said, "It's a date."

But Catherine doubted very much that it really was a date. She left the pool room without even knowing his name.

**A/N: I've always thought poor **_**Northanger**_** is atrociously neglected, and really it might be my second favorite Austen (you know, after **_**Emma**_**). Anyway, yes. Catherine will be a sci-fi geek, as I warned she might be. More on that next chapter, which will be longer. **

**So we'll see how this works out. Tell me what you think!**


	2. The Doctor and the Thorpes

**Catherine's Adventures in the Parallel World  
**_2. The Doctor and the Thorpes_

It had begun for Catherine three years before.

That summer she had been working part-time at Mr. Miller's convenience store two blocks from her house and struggling with an overdeveloped crush on Mr. Miller's son Eric. Eric was kind of a nerd in a totally adorable, but the problem was he had never noticed that she existed.

Catherine knew this was summer that was going to change. She had fantasies about how their love would develop as they stocked shelves and manned the cash registers together. How he would walk her back to her house after work and ask to hold her hand. How she would let him kiss her in the empty lot behind the store. How when they eventually got married, this would be the story they would tell their children.

They were really very modest fantasies, and yet she was denied them. The summer plodded along. The days got hotter. And nothing happened. More often then not, Catherine stocked shelves on her own while Eric talked to their other co-worker—equally nerdy but not equally adorable Andy, who was also Eric best friend. He still didn't know she existed. It was a terrible letdown.

But Catherine wasn't one to easily let things go. So one day, when she heard Eric and Andy making plans to watch some show she'd never heard of after work—_Doctor Who_ or something—she basically invited herself to join them.

And that day she fell in love.

But not with Eric Miller.

Catherine had grown up watching _Star Trek Voyager with_ her dad. Perhaps the foundation had already been laid. But it was that day on Eric's couch when she really began to understand. She really began to see the glory of it all. There was just something about that episode of _Doctor Who—_the sketchy special effects; the cheesy, breathless awesome; the Doctor saying, "Nice to meet you, Rose. Run for your life!"

It was a historic day, to say the least.

And so began Catherine's plunge into science fiction. From there it only got worse—_Stargate, Battlestar Galactica, Firefly, Torchwood, Farscape_—the list went on. Anything she could get her hands on, Catherine watched it all. She lived in a world of aliens and robots and time travel and space travel. She lived in a world of infinite possibilities.

Marge told her it was unhealthy. Jamie told it was geeky and hilarious.

And probably, it was all of those things. But what could Catherine do? She was in love.

* * *

"You'll absolutely love her," Aunt Gail said to Catherine. "The two of you are going to be best friends."

Cath had no doubts that she and Izzie Thorpe would be best friends, partly because Aunt Gail had told her so at least fifteen times already. It was tomorrow, and they were waiting in the airport for the Thorpes to arrive. Catherine was wearing her favorite blue sundress.

If she were being honest with herself, she had to admit that the dress had nothing to do with the Thorpes' arrival. She had put it on that morning on the chance that she might, on her way out of the hotel, run into a certain boy with slightly unruly brown hair and a mischievous smile. But she hadn't. There was no sign of him in the halls, or in the elevator, or in the hotel lobby.

Catherine was astonished by how disappointed she was. Why should she be disappointed? Was it possible to have a crush on someone you had only said a total of six words to? Surely it wasn't possible.

(Unless that person were Captain Jack Harkness, of course—fifty-first century pheromones and all.)

Catherine determined to put it out of her mind. She was immensely curious about the Thorpes, after all. She hoped that Izzie was very lovely, and that once she had regaled Jamie with tales of her loveliness, he would have not choice but to drive up and visit. And there was also John, the brother. She was also curious about John. Because, after all, who knew?

"I see them!" Aunt Nancy squealed, grabbing a hold of Cath's arm. "Oh, here they come!"

Uncle David caught Catherine's eye and gave her a wink, then a quick roll of his eyes—his usual lackadaisical reaction to his wife's over exuberance. But he only caught her eye for a moment, for Catherine was straining to catch a glimpse of the famous Thorpes across the crowded airport. Then she saw them—an older woman with clipped blonde hair, squealing in a similar manner to Aunt Nancy. Behind her were John and Izzie.

The three approached Catherine and her Uncle and Aunt, and amidst Aunt Gail and Nancy Thorpe's squealing, somehow introductions were made.

John had very short dark hair, and nice brown eyes, and was somewhere between tall and average. He was dressed quite normally in a polo shirt and shorts. He was not bad looking at all. But Catherine couldn't help but note, with a fraction of that same disappointment, that there was nothing mischievous or unruly about him. He shook her hand like a grown up.

And Izzie—well, Izzie was beyond pretty. Izzie was gorgeous. She was blonde, tanned, green-eyed, skinny gorgeous.

"Oh my God, Catherine Morland," Izzie said, grabbing Catherine's arm and linking it in her own as they all made they way to the baggage claim. "We are going to have so much fun. I haven't even made it out of the airport yet, and I've already seen like a million cute guys. New York must be the gold mine."

John snorted sarcastically from behind them. "Nice, Iz. Way to introduce yourself to people. Now what's she going to think of you?"

Izzie pushed her long hair back with the hand that wasn't linked in Catherine's arms. She turned her head to scowl at her brother. "Catherine understands me." She turned back to Cath. "We're kindred spirits. I can tell."

Catherine could feel her morale begin to soar. It was going to be a wonderful vacation. "Of course we are. Like Kara and Lee."

"We're soul mates," Izzie said. "Who are Kara and Lee?"

"Never mind," Cath said, momentarily doubting whether they really were kindred spirits.

Izzie shrugged. Her attention had been drawn to a couple of guys who were trying to flirt with her from across the baggage claim. John appeared at Catherine's side.

"She has a short attention span," he explained with a shrug. "You'll get used to it." It might have been a funny comment, but the tone in which he said it was so serious that Catherine couldn't tell if she were meant to laugh or not. Izzie turned and delivered John another scowl. Catherine decided she was not meant to laugh.

"John is just jealous because those guys over there totally think we're hot and there are no girls fawning over him," Izzie said, still giving John the look. Then she turned suddenly on Catherine again. "Wasn't your brother going to come? I heard your brother was going to come. Didn't he want to meet me?"

She pouted a little, as if she thought Jamie's non-appearance was personal affront to her, despite the fact that they had never met.

"He's trying to come up," Catherine said. "Work's really busy for him right now."

Izzie didn't think this a proper excuse. "He absolutely must come. Tell him I say so. In fact, we should call him right now. Let's call him."

"Oh Lord," John groaned.

"Come on," Izzie said, grabbing Cath's arm and pulling her toward a row of chairs. "John will get my bag, won't you John?"

John did not respond. He merely offered her the blankest of stares.

"He will," Izzie said, dragging Catherine away. "I think he's decided belligerence is an attractive quality. He likes to act that way. But he's really a sweetheart. You'll love him when you get to know him. And he's a good height for you."

Whether or not John was a good height for her didn't seem of any relevance to Catherine. She had gotten out her cell phone and was pressing Jamie's speed dial.

"Put him on speaker," Izzie urged. So Catherine did.

Jamie answered after a few rings. "How's the weather, Cath?"

Before Catherine could respond, Izzie said cheerfully, "I don't know. I haven't been outside yet in New York. I suppose it's lovely."

"That's not Cath," Jamie said.

"Of course it's not. It's Izzie. But Catherine's here to. And we're calling to tell you that you must come up. Why aren't you here?"

"I told Cath I would come if you were pretty," Jamie said, to Catherine's horror.

But Izzie only laughed and said, "I'm very pretty."

"Is she pretty, Cath?" Jamie asked, sounding more than amused with himself, which wasn't unusual. "Tell me honestly."

"Of course I'm pretty!" Izzie insisted.

"She's very pretty," Catherine confirmed.

"Then of course, I'll be there as soon as I can. And very delighted to meet you, Izzie Thorpe."

"You'd better be pretty pretty yourself," Izzie said.

"I'm adorable. But I'm at work. I have to go."

"Well, then I'll see you shortly," Izzie said triumphantly. Catherine hung up the phone. As soon as she had Izzie grabbed her arm again.

"Oh my God, he's totally adorable. I can tell he's totally adorable. I think I'm in love."

"That's not surprising," said John, who was standing in front of them toting two bags behind him. "If you're done terrorizing the poor girl's relatives, you can take this." He pulled the decidedly larger bag forward and stood it up in front of his sister.

"Oh you're so _charming_ John, aren't you?" Izzie intoned sarcastically. "So chivalrous. That's really the way to sweep Catherine off her feet."

Cath wasn't sure how she felt about this talk of John sweeping her off her feet. She liked her fett right where they were. But John's response was merely to sigh, and to send Catherine a look that seemed to say, "See what I have to deal with?"

So Catherine smiled at him. And he smiled back. And that was the first mistake Catherine made in her dealings with John Thorpe.

But she didn't know it then, and Izzie was dragging her across the airport again, insisting that Catherine _must help her_ make a good impression on Jamie. Everything Izzie said she seemed to say emphatically—lots of _must's_ and lots of superlative adjectives. She also talked an awful lot about boys. Once she'd finished begging for Catherine's help with Jamie, she began telling her about the man she'd sat next to on the plane—who had been hot, but probably like thirty-five, which even Izzie thought was probably too much of an age gap.

"How old is your brother?" she asked Catherine.

Cath told her that Jamie was twenty, and Izzie said, "See, that's perfect."

Catherine agreed. It kind of was.

By the time they'd reached the hotel, Catherine was so delighted by her knew friend that she'd completely forgotten the boy with the mischievous smile. She had forgotten him so much that she was surprised to see him walking out of the building as they were walking in. In fact, she didn't notice him until he said, "Hello, pool girl." And then she almost jumped.

Then she was embarrassed. She was surrounded by a mass of relatives and very recent acquaintances, and here was this strange boy calling her pool girl. She didn't know what to say. It didn't help matters when Izzie, who was giving the boy a quick once over, said, "That sounds vaguely dirty."

Catherine felt herself turning red.

"It's not," he said, then laughed and grinned at Catherine and then he kept on walking where ever it was he was going, without Cath getting a word out edgewise.

Catherine had heard before that if you blew a first impression it took sixteen more tries to erase that impression. But at the rate she was going with this guy, it was definitely going to take more than fourteen more encounters. It would probably take her the rest of her life.

"Do you know him?" Izzie asked as they entered the hotel.

Catherine shook her head. "I don't even know his name," she admitted.

And it seemed more than likely she never would.

* * *

**A/N: Since **_**Doctor Who **_**was my first sci-fi love, I thought it fitting that it also be Catherine's. Otherwise I do not necessarily claim her views on various sci-fi as my own. (Or maybe I do? Who knows.) I think for the sake of my head not exploding, I'm going to stick to Catherine mostly watching sci-fi and not reading it.**

**Honestly, I think a more strictly modernized Catherine would probably be reading vampire fiction or something. But I've never read any vampire fiction myself, and I'm totally a sci-fi nerd. So I couldn't resist.**

**Thank you for all of your kind reviews! You know how happy they make me. So keep on reviewing!**

**Marshie12: **It makes me delighted that Northanger is your favorite. It seems to be the most neglected of all the Jane Austen novels, and I just don't understand it. Because it's so fabulous!

**Jessie Luna: **Doctor Who is the greatest thing in the world.

**waterytart: **I LOVE that BBC Northanger Abbey. It was by far my favorite of all those most recent productions. In fact, it's the only one I own. Although Sense & Sensibility was also very good.

**Nnichollaa: **I'm hoping for fast updates too….We'll see how it goes, lol.


	3. Boys

**Catherine's Adventures in the Parallel World  
**_3. Boys_

Izzie was shocked that Catherine had never really dated anyone.

Shocked and appalled were her actual words. "I mean," she said, "why _haven't _you?"

Catherine's reasons were simple: there had never seemed to be anyone worth the trouble. There had been boys, of course—Eric Miller, for instance, and others. But in the end, there had always been something not right about them, the boys, and what it added up to was that Catherine was eighteen and had never had a real boyfriend.

While Catherine explained, Izzie was painting French tips onto Catherine's nails and giving her the most disbelieving looks. Once Catherine had finished she said quite sternly, "Now Cath, it's good to have high standards, don't get me wrong. I have high standards myself, of course. But you can't have impossible standards, or else you never get to date anyone. Like you haven't. And where is the fun in that?"

But it wasn't that Catherine had impossible standards. The problem was more that she had very persistent fantasies. After all, she had spent so much time with Captain Kirk and Captain Mal and Captain Apollo and Captain Jack Harkness, it was hard for anyone in real life to measure up. Which, she supposed, added up the same thing as impossible standards.

But it was difficult to settle for any just any boy when you had a bigger picture in your head. Cath had a bigger picture. She believed in destinies.

Izzie was asking, "So what do you think of John?"

Catherine's mind had wandered. It took her a moment to register the question, and even once she did she didn't register any particular significance to it. To be honest, she hadn't thought much about John at all. But that didn't seem like a polite thing to admit to John's sister.

So Catherine said, "He's nice."

Izzie smiled at her slyly, then blew on Catherine's fingernails. "All done," she said, giving Catherine her hands back. "But be careful while they dry."

Catherine nodded and Izzie continued to talk. Catherine had notice this about Izzie—you didn't have to say much to her. She was quite capable of carrying on a conversation with herself.

Izzie was saying, "Well, John likes you too."

Catherine was bewildered, but Izzie must have interpreted her expression as disbelief because she added quickly, "Okay, he didn't tell me so or anything, but I can just tell. He's my brother. Anyway, our goal this week will be to find you a proper boyfriend, and I'm just saying I don't think it will be too hard, if you know what I mean."

Catherine didn't know what Izzie meant at all. How did a person find a proper boyfriend in a week? It seemed impossible. She hadn't managed to find one in eighteen years.

* * *

Jamie was arriving that day. He was taking a taxi from the airport, and Catherine was going down to the hotel lobby to meet him. Izzie wanted to come with her, but Catherine insisted on solitude. She wanted to get to get to see him first.

But before Catherine met Jamie, she met someone else.

She was sitting on a sofa in the lobby, humming a tune inside her head, and wondering what it would really be like to live in a world run by robot overlords. In other words, she wasn't at all paying attention to her surroundings, and so she did not notice the boy with the mischievous smile until he was sitting beside her.

"Hello," he said.

Catherine was startled. She nearly jumped. She said, "Hi."

"I'm not stalking you," he said. "It's just that we're staying at the hotel, which makes the chances of us running into each other repeatedly…" He paused. "…higher than they would be if we weren't." He was making a face like he had confused himself. Then he shrugged and laughed. "The point is I'm not stalking you. Also, I'm Rhys."

"Cath. Catherine Morland."

"Hello Cath Catherine," he said cheerfully, and Catherine began to say, "No—" But then she saw that he was kidding her. And anyway, just then Aunt Gail popped out of the elevator.

"Where's the other bookend?" Aunt Gail asked (for Aunt Gail humorously referred to Catherine and Jamie as "The Bookends" because, as she said, you couldn't have one without the other). And just as Catherine was saying that Jamie had not arrived, Aunt Gail looked at Rhys and asked good-naturedly, "Well, who's this?"

Catherine could not answer the question. Who was this? She didn't know. She only knew his first name.

Fortunately, Rhys answered for himself and supplied more information than he had supplied Catherine with thus far. He stood up, and said, "Hello, I'm Rhys Tilney." And he shook Aunt Gail's hand. He suddenly seemed very grown up.

Aunt Gail let out a little exclamation of surprise, and a look of recognition crossed her face. "Why you are Rhys Tilney, aren't you?!" she said delightedly. "I would never have recognized you. You were about this high the last time I saw you." She gestured to somewhere around her knees.

"I'm afraid you must have a very bad impression of me in that case," Rhys said. "I've been told I was a terrible child."

Aunt Gail laughed. "All children are terrible. Anyway, I'm sure you don't remember me at all. I'm Gail Allen, David's wife."

"Of course," Rhys said graciously.

"And I see you've met my niece. Are you staying at the hotel? How lucky," Aunt Gail said, without waiting for a response, as she often didn't. "Well, I'll let you two alone. But as soon as Jamie comes, Cath, you must bring him up."

Catherine said she would and Aunt Gail flounced back into the elevator and Rhys sat back down. "Well, what do you know," he said to Catherine. "Doesn't that make me a bit less creepy? I'm practically an old family friend."

"I never thought you were creepy," Catherine said.

"What, not even a little?" Rhys asked, as if he were disappointed.

So Catherine said, "Okay, maybe a little. But I've never had a stalker before. It might have been exciting."

Rhys laughed. "Spoken like someone who watches too much television."

"I suppose you don't," Cath said, suddenly feeling disheartened. She supposed Rhys was probably very serious and adult and would think her childish and silly if he got to know her better.

But he said, "No, actually, I absolutely make a habit of watching too much television."

And then the doors of the hotel opened and Jamie, tolling a suitcase, was upon them.

Catherine jumped from her seat. "Jamie!" she squealed, hugged him though he was still holding a suitcase, and began to say a great many other things. But Jamie held up a hand.

"Hold on. I have a message to recite, before you talk it out of my brain." He cleared his throat dramatically and ran a hand over his short, blonde hair. "Your father says that the reason you have a cell phone, which, it could be added, he pays for, is so you will use it once in a while. He also begs me to remind you that you are a stranger in a strange land, and not to be seduced by the dark side."

Catherine looked skeptical. "He said all that?"

Jamie shrugged. "I was translating into your language." Then he looked from Catherine to Rhys, and said to Rhys, "I'm guessing you're John. Where's your sister?"

Rhys, who was still sitting down, said, "Actually I'm Rhys."

And Jamie looked at Catherine and said, "Cath, you have so many men."

And Catherine, who didn't know that she had any men at all, scowled at Jamie and struggled to explain, "I've just met him. He knows Aunt Gail. Or his father does or something."

"Well hello Rhys, I'm Jamie," Jamie said affably. He dragged his suitcase over and sat down in a chair and added, "And for the record, I'm not one of her many men. I'm just her brother."

Since the other two were both sitting down, Catherine resumed her seat beside Rhys. "I don't have many men," she said seriously. He was smiling as if he were trying not to laugh. She was sure he was, once again, getting the wrong impression of her. This time, however, it seemed to be more Jamie's fault than her own.

Rhys said, "I don't see why you shouldn't."

Jamie, who had been observing his surroundings, rejoined the conversation with a complete non sequitur. "This is a very large room," he observed.

Cath said, "We're not in Kansas."

Jamie nodded. "Well, Toto, you'd better take me to your Aunt Gail before she finds out you've been keeping all to yourself down here."

"To myself and Rhys," Cath corrected. "But you're right, we'd better go up." She looked apologetically at Rhys.

Rhys smiled. "Of course. Well, I'm glad to have finally actually met you. How long are you in New York?"

"Two weeks. Maybe I'll see you around?" After she said it, Catherine thought her voice sounded a little too hopeful.

But Rhys said very decidedly, "Oh, you will."

And then she and Jamie headed upstairs, Jamie saying, "I think that's what Brad meant by the dark side."

"What? He's nice. Besides, dad didn't actually say 'the dark side.'"

"No," Jamie admitted, becoming serious, "but there was some reference to your mother. I'm just saying, it's that type he wants you to be wary of. Like you said, it's a like an alien world. I think different rules may apply."

Catherine sighed. Jamie continued, "And anyway, that's the thing about boys. We all _seem _nice."

"If you just came to lecture me—" Catherine began grumpily. For she liked Rhys, and she didn't want to have to be wary of him. Perhaps the dark side was already seducing her.

"Nope. I came to meet your pretty friend Izzie," Jamie said, resuming his usual lighthearted manner. "So you'd better introduce me soon."

Catherine took him to Aunt Gail and Uncle David first. Then after a while she went with Jamie to find Izzie and John.

* * *

Izzie and Jamie certainly hit it off. After all, there was no reason they shouldn't. They were both attractive and charming people, and were both willing and ready to be attracted and charmed. And so they were.

The four had decided to be tourists and had taken themselves to the Empire State Building, and now they were at its top. Catherine liked the top of the Empire State Building. She liked being so far above the city. She could see for miles. It was the closest she had ever been to the sky.

But there were things about the top of the Empire State Building that were less inspiring. One thing in particular. Jamie and Izzie were keeping pretty much to themselves at the moment, leaving Catherine alone with John.

Theoretically, Catherine had no problems with John. He was Izzie's brother, and she wanted to like him on that account alone. But practically was another matter. They seemed to have nothing in common. She didn't know what to say to him, and when she did say something it was always somehow the wrong thing.

"I like it here," she said, because there was no one else to talk to and not talking was awkward. "I feel bigger up here."

"I feel like a terrorist target," John grunted.

Catherine shook her head, and continued to muse more to herself than to John now. "I like it. Maybe it's that the world feels bigger from up here."

"I like that you like it," he said.

They seemed to be getting no where. Catherine sighed. She imagined being on top of the Empire State Building with the Doctor instead of with John Thorpe. He would understand what she meant about feeling bigger, about the world somehow feeling bigger as she looked down upon it. He would have something better to say than, "I like that you like it."

And then Catherine realized she wasn't imagining the Doctor with her at all. She was imagining Rhys Tilney.

* * *

**A/N: I blame the late update on a move across three states, the beginning of grad school, and a sudden random obsession with Criminal Minds. And baseball season, of course. I'm **

**sure when my next late update comes along I'll have some other awesome excuses.**

**Thank you for your reviews, all who reviewed. And please do review. I love reviews. They are like cookies, only less fattening.**


	4. Catherine Learns about Strategy

**Catherine's Adventures in the Parallel World  
**_4. Catherine Learns About Strategy_

"I can't believe the two of you," Jamie said. "We're in New York, and all you want to do is sit on the bed and watch _Torchwood_."

This did seem to be all Catherine and Izzie wanted to do. They had been up late the night before watching episodes on Jamie's laptop, and now in the morning they were at it again. As soon as one episode was over, Izzie just wanted to start the next.

"You love _Torchwood_," Catherine said to Jamie.

Izzie, arms wrapped around her knees and chin resting on top of them, was staring at the computer screen with wrapped attention. "Who wouldn't love it?" she asked. "It's delicious."

It had been a rhetorical question, but Catherine answered. "Your brother. John thought it was stupid."

Izzie wrinkled her nose. "Well, he has horrible taste." Then she added quickly, nudging Catherine in the side, "I mean, not in girls, but in other things."

Catherine didn't see what John's taste in girls had to do with anything. But Izzie said things like this sometimes—complete _non sequitur_s—and Cath had learned to take them as given and not bother asking questions.

"Yes well, while I do love _Torchwood_," Jamie cut in, in an attempt to redirect the conversation back to its point of departure, "the main thing was that we're in New York. Come on, everyone's ready to go."

He wedged himself on the bed behind Izzie and casually swatted her ponytail. Izzie tossed her head back but otherwise didn't acknowledge him. Catherine knew this was partly _Torchwood _and partly strategy, because Izzie had explained strategy to her. Strategy was ignoring the boys you liked because it made them want you more. Catherine thought strategy was maybe a little bit mean, but she couldn't argue with results. Jamie was completely had.

"Alright," Catherine said, who was really satisfied either way. She was happy to go, and she was happy to sit on the bed watching _Torchwood _with Izzie. She was always thrilled by winning someone over to science fiction. The trick was matching the right sci-fi program to the right person. Izzie, admittedly, had been easy. _Torchwood _had Izzie written all over it.

Izzie, however, was less thrilled at the prospect of leaving. "I don't want to go look at stupid art," she pouted. "I'd rather look at five hot people having sex with each other and fighting aliens. Or having sex with aliens and fighting each other. Seriously, these people have the best job in the world. All they do is make out. Who's idea was it to go look at stupid art?"

The Metropolitan Museum of Art had been the adults' idea, and everyone was going. Izzie was not overwhelmed with excitement. Being cultured, she had told Catherine, was overrated.

But Jamie reached around Izzie and hit the pause button on the computer. With a loud sigh, Izzie slid off the bed. In retaliation she said, "Oh well. I bet all the cute, sensitive, artsy boys go to look at paintings. So at least there'll be something for _me _to look at. Come on, Cath." And she flounced out of the room.

But Catherine hung back, noticing the pained expressions on Jamie's face as he watched Izzie make her exit. "How's the weather?" she asked.

Jamie shook his head and shook the expression off of his face in the process. "She's killing me Cath," he said, as he stood up. "She's literally killing me. And she's doing it on purpose."

"It's strategy," Catherine said.

Jamie merely muttered, "Mmm-hmmm." For they had excited the bedroom, and everyone was waiting for them outside.

* * *

Though they all arrived at The Met together, once they got there the group splintered off. At first, it was just that the grownups splintered off from the kids after making a time to meet back up. But then the group splintered even more.

First Jamie and Izzie got lost themselves together (for part of strategy, Izzie had explained, was that you couldn't _always_ ignore the boys you liked or they might give up on you altogether). After that, John had hung around Catherine for a while, bombarding her with boring facts about the artists of the art they were looking at. He liked to sound intellectual, or maybe he just liked to hear himself talk.

But when it came to modern art, Catherine was too slow for him. He became impatient. And so, with encouragement from Cath herself, he moved on without her.

Catherine was happier on her own. She hadn't liked being rushed and she hadn't like being bombarded with facts. She liked to look at the paintings, but they confounded her, and it took her a long time to make sense of one before she was ready to move on to the next. It was a slightly exhausting, but she took it as a challenge and ever so slowly moved from one puzzlement to the next.

It was in this state that Rhys Tilney came upon her. However impossible it was that they should chance a meeting again, it did happen. (And when Catherine thought about—and she did think about it—she thought it was so impossible that it had to boil down to destiny. The _Lost _kind of destiny. New York City was like the island, and it was bringing them together.)

She was standing in front of a particularly mind-boggling Jackson Pollock when he popped up beside her and said, "Alright. Now this really is getting frightening. You have my full permission to be frightened. Actually, I'm a little frightened myself. I think you might be stalking _me_."

Catherine (who was overjoyed rather than alarmed to have him so unexpectedly beside her) replied, "I think I'm frightened of this painting."

Rhys looked. "I think you're supposed to be," he suggested. "It's called 'War.'"

This was true. Catherine thought he was probably right. For a minute, she was afraid he would start rattling off facts like John Thorpe did. But he didn't. He was still looking at the painting, and he was silent.

He rejoined, after a moment, "You're right. It is kind of startling."

"I don't think I'm very good at this," Catherine confessed.

He turned from the painting to her. "At what?"

"Looking at paintings."

He smiled, but it wasn't as if he was laughing at her. "I don't think you can be bad at looking at paintings," he said. "But I know what you mean. Honestly, this stuff is all way over my head. It's more my sister's thing. She's back there somewhere," he said, waving vaguely in the direction behind them.

"I think it's all starting to make my brain a little crazy," Catherine said.

"You need a break," Rhys matter-of-factly informed her. "If we sit down, Elle will catch up with us. You should meet her."

Catherine was more than open to the suggestion, and so they sat. She thought that this probably wasn't what Izzie would have done. For one thing, it went completely against strategy. But strategy was just too hard. Rhys wanted to sit down and talk to her, and he wanted her to meet his sister, and how could Catherine resist?

Rhys stretched his legs out in front of him. "And now that I've captured you, I can proceed to bore you to death with mind-numbing small talk," he said. He continued with in a mock-serious tone of voice, "So Catherine Morland, how do you like New York?"

"It's brilliant," Cath said.

"And is it your first time here?"

"It's my first time anywhere."

"You know what they say, first time for everything," Rhys said, and then made a face. "Come to think of it, why do they say that? That's not even remotely true. There are definitely some things that neither of us will ever have a first time for."

"Time travel, for instance," Catherine said.

"Exactly. However, I do have other superpowers."

Catherine, amused, crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows. "Do you?" she asked.

"I can see the future," Rhys asserted. "I know exactly what you're going to write in your diary tonight." He cleared his throat. "'Dear Diary: today I went to The Met and looked very pretty, but unfortunately was once again attacked by the strange guy who pretends to know my aunt and forced to endure his mindless prattle."

Catherine shook her head. "I would never write that."

"You doubt my superpowers. It hurts."

"Maybe I don't keep a diary," Cath said.

"You'll post it as your facebook status, then. And don't tell me you don't facebook, Morland, or I'll know you're lying to me. We can't base our friendship on lies."

The more Catherine talked to Rhys the more she liked him. She tried to keep in mind what Jamie had told her—about all boys _seeming_ nice—along with the fact that she didn't really know Rhys at all. She tried to keep in mind that this was the parallel world, and that parallel worlds were trouble, and she tried to keep in mind the story of her mother whom she had never met once. But the truth was, it was already too late. Catherine had a major crush.

That crush was pointing to tall, willowy, dark-haired girl and saying it was his sister Elle. "Look how hard she's concentrating. She won't even notice us," he said.

He was half right. Elle was concentrating hard, but after a moment she did notice them and walked in their direction. "Gave up already?" she asked her brother.

Rhys leaned back and crossed his arms. "I'm taking a break. And this is Catherine."

"Hello, Catherine," Elle said brightly. She sat down on the other side of Rhys, as Rhys continued to her by saying, "I've been stalking her."

"You said you weren't stalking me!" Cath said.

"The truth always comes out," Elle laughed. "But he did mention you. He said we used to know your aunt, but I have to be honest, I don't remember at all. I must have been about four years old."

But Catherine did not hear the last portion of this statement. Her brain had stopped somewhere around _he mentioned you_. Surely, this had to mean something. You didn't mention people unless they registered as significant.

"You're here by yourself?" Rhys asked, as if he'd just realized Cath was alone. He looked about like he expected Jamie or Aunt Gail or someone to materialize.

"I was with a whole group of people, but…" she trailed off and shrugged.

"They abandoned you. How tragic," Rhys said. Elle swatted him and told him to stop it.

Cath said, "The abandonment was mutual." And Rhys laughed. He thought she was funny. Catherine was thrilled that he thought she was funny.

But then her phone started buzzing. Catherine pulled it out of her purse. The alarm was going off. She turned it off, and Rhys asked her, "What does that mean? Is the world ending?"

"It means I have to go find my people," Cath said, knowing that he could probably hear the reluctance in her voice, and knowing that this was also not a part of strategy.

"That's too bad," Elle said genuinely. "I've just met you."

"I know," Catherine said, and she began to stand up. The others stood up with her.

"Well, you'd better give me your number," Rhys said, and Catherine could feel the electricity starting in her toes and shooting all the way up her body into her brain. "Because as delightful and serendipitous as it's been running into you like this," he continued, "I wouldn't want to tempt fate."

Cath was more than happy to oblige.

* * *

She found John first. Together the two of them rejoined the rest of the group. Izzie and Jamie were a few minutes late, and when they arrived they both seemed giggly and wound up. Izzie was hanging on to Jamie's arm. And yet, Jamie took one look at Catherine and said, "Cath, you've got this moony look on your face like you've spent the last five hours staring at Lee Adama."

Izzie looked from John to Catherine, and then she looked smug, for no reason whatsoever as far as Cath could tell. Then Izzie traded Jamie's arm for her brothers and walked John ahead, leaving Cath back with Jamie.

"Is she still killing you?" Cath asked, nodding to Izzie.

"No, but I like you said, I think it's all part of the strategy. Quite honestly, it makes it hard to tell if she really likes me or it's all just fun and games. But then I think, who _wouldn't_ like me?"

"Haha," Cath said. Her phone buzzed again. She took it out and looked at it.

"What's that?" Jamie asked.

It was a text. It read: _Hasn't anyone ever told you not to give your phone number out to strangers?_

It was from Rhys. And Catherine was in love.

* * *

**A/N: So I haven't given up on this story by any means, but chapters might be a little delayed like this for the foreseeable future. Grad school has swallowed my life. Thanks as always for the kind review and please keep reviewing.**

**(Also: woa! When did Jane Austen get split up into categories by book?)**


	5. Half Truths & Whole Lies

**Catherine's Adventures in the Parallel World**

_5. Half Truths & Whole Lies_

This was how Catherine found out that her brother and her best friend were officially dating: she read it on facebook. She had logged in on Jamie's computer Wednesday morning to check her notifications and update her status (she had never, for the record, written anything like what Rhys had told her she would) and there it was in her news feeds:

_Jamie Goforth is in a relationship with Izzie Thorpe._

This was news to Cath. Well, not news exactly, but it was news at least that things had become facebook levels of official. She was surprised that neither of the parties involved had informed her personally. She was also a little hurt. Nobody ever talked to her anymore.

Okay, that was only half true. John talked to her all the time. She could barely get rid of him. Everywhere she turned, there he was talking and talking and scowling, and everything he said was something negative about something. He did always say nice things about Catherine herself; she had to give him that. But she was beginning to worry that his belligerence might start to wear off on her if she wasn't able to spend more time away from it. And today, in particular, she didn't want to be infected by belligerence. Today was going to be a good day. Today she was going out with Rhys and Elle.

To be honest, she didn't even know where they were going exactly. She had been told, but she didn't remember. When Rhys had asked her she had said yes immediately, and had been otherwise too elated by the invitation and by him calling her in the first place to remember the details, except that they were coming by around noon. She had run it by Aunt Gail and Uncle David, and also by her father, the later of whom had cautioned her once again to be careful.

Catherine had promised she would be careful. But it wasn't really the first thing on her mind. There were too many other things cluttering that up. For starters, she did not know what to wear. Fortunately she knew an expert. She left her room and went to find Izzie.

Izzie opened her door with her make-up half on and exclaiming, "Cath, you're psychic! I was just about to come get you."

"What for?" Cath asked, as she followed Izzie back to her bedroom where she plopped down on the bed. Izzie repositioned herself in front of the mirror and began applying the first of numerous coats of mascara.

"Because we're going to see the Statue of Liberty today. John is on his way back. He went out for breakfast or something. And Jamie should be coming up from your suite." Izzie paused, glancing through the mirror and Catherine. "You should probably get dressed." She concluded. Cath was wearing a tank top and track bottoms.

Izzie must have forgotten. "I can't go to the Statue of Liberty. I'm going out with Rhys and his sister today," Cath reminded her.

But Izzie shook her head. "No, that's tomorrow."

Cath frowned. She had brought her phone with her, and she opened the calendar. "No….." she said hesitantly, "it's today."

Izzie turned around from the mirror. "Is it really today?"

Catherine nodded.

It was Izzie's turn to frown. "But you have to come!" she said. "I already told John you were coming. We can't even go without you! Can you imagine how awkward that would be, the three of us? It completely ruins the whole day if you don't come. You know, your brother's leaving in two days. It's not like you can't hang out with Rhys who-ever-he-is then."

"I'm sorry," Cath said, a little bit desperately. She was sorry. She felt horrible. For ruining Jamie and Izzie's day, at least. But she wasn't about to blow off Rhys Tilney. Not for John Thorpe anyhow. She was also pretty sure she wasn't going to get any wardrobe advice from Izzie now.

Izzie turned sharply back to the mirror. She applied a layer of lip gloss. "I just think it's selfish, that's all. But you do what you want. I just think it shows where your priorities are," she said primly.

Catherine could feel herself sinking lower into the bed. She wished she had not come up. She wished she could fall through the bed and hide under it. She watched Izzie put the finishing touches on her face. She really didn't know what to say. The silence felt very large. Today was supposed to be a good day.

There was a knock on the door, and Izzie went to get it. Catherine heard Jamie when she opened it and then she heard the door shut and Izzie say loudly, "Catherine refuses to come."

Before Jamie could reply, there was another knock. The door was opened again, this time to John. On the bed in Izzie's room, Catherine pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She sat, awaiting the trio. "Why won't she come?" Jamie asked, as they walked towards her.

"I'm in here!" Catherine called. Then they all were in the room.

"She's going out with that boy or whatever. So she won't come," Izzie explained to everyone. Catherine looked helplessly at her step-brother, wondering if he would turn on her too. He was, after all, holding Izzie's hand.

But Jamie smiled. "Aaah yes, the Tilney. Well if Cath can't go Cath can't go." He shrugged. He let go of Izzie hand to walk over and sit down on the bed next to Catherine. He was a really good brother.

"Then I'm not going," Izzie said, somewhere in between a rage and a pout.

"Okay, we'll go tomorrow. No big deal," Jamie said. Then he added to Catherine, "You'd better not get into trouble though, or you know that's going to come back on me somehow."

Catherine was about to reply that she never got into trouble, when for the first time John piped up. "Rhys Tilney is the skinny one right? With brown hair and the sister who looks like Claire Danes as a brunette?"

Cath looked at him, apprehensive about where this description was going. It seemed accurate enough, however, and she nodded.

John continued. "Because I just saw them on my way up. They were on their way out. I said hi. They said they were out for the day." He shrugged, but it wasn't like Jamie's shrugs. It kind of seemed mean. Catherine hadn't know that a shrug could be mean. John added, "Maybe they forgot."

Catherine felt like a hole had been burnt through her chest. It had been burnt through her chest and was now working on the rest of her body. Even her fingers and toes were beginning to tingle. Had he really forgotten her? He had asked her. Why would he ask her just to forget her? But it wasn't as if John would lie. Nobody would just lie like that. Maybe it had been a misunderstanding.

She said aloud, "Maybe it was a misunderstanding."

John was putting on a sympathetic face. "They definitely said they'd be gone for the day."

"Go get dressed," Izzie commanded. Her rage and pouting had dissolved now that the situation was once again within reach of her control. "You have to come with us now. You can't sit around here waiting for him to show up when he's not going to."

"Maybe I should text him? Just to see what's going on?" Cath asked.

But Izzie's answer was vehement. "No, you can't do that. That's letting him win."

"Come on Iz, maybe she should give him the benefit of the doubt," Jamie suggested.

But Izzie shot him a glare, and he held up his hands in defeat. "Trust me, Cath," Izzie said. "You can't text him. Don't give the douchebag the satisfaction."

So Catherine got dressed and allowed herself to be taken to the Statue of Liberty, and salvaged the day for everyone else. For her it was already ruined. To make matters worse, she realized halfway there that she had left her phone on Izzie's bed. She couldn't even check it for messages. So it was not under they returned that she received her texts. There were two. They were from Rhys. The first was from 12:05.

_Came by but your Aunt said you'd gone out. Can only assume you're with one of your other many men._

The second was from two hours later. It's simply said: _Well then. _

* * *

Catherine was angry. Very, very angry. Izzie wanted to watch an episode of Torchword before they all had to dress up and go to some show. (What show? Catherine couldn't remember. Some broadway.) But Catherine declined. She said she was tired and headed downstairs to her own suite.

But Jamie new Catherine well enough to know that it took more than mere tiredness for her to reject Captain Jack Harkness. He followed after her. He didn't even have to ask her how the weather was. As soon as the hotel door was shut behind them Catherine exploded.

"He _lied _to me! He actually just lied to me!"

Catherine was pacing. Jamie sat down on a loveseat. "The Tilney?" he asked.

"No, John," she said. She crossed the room and fell beside him onto the seat. "Look," she said and emphatically thrust her cell phone at Jamie so that he could read the text messages from Rhys. "He told me he saw Rhys leaving for the day. He lied."

"Maybe it was a misunderstanding?"

Catherine scowled at him. She knew why he was standing up for John. It was because he was dating John's sister. That wasn't fair. Jamie was supposed to be always on Catherine's side. "A misunderstanding is like when Rose went back with the Doctor and saved her father's life and accidentally almost ended the world. That was a misunderstanding. This is like… I don't know. It's like horrible. He's like Benjamin Linus."

"I can tell your upset because you're mixing your sci-fi metaphors." Jamie said, handing her back her phone. "But….oh never mind. I'm not even going to try. You're right. John's an ass. But it's not that big of a deal. Just text Tilney and tell him it was a mix-up. It wasn't your fault."

Catherine just groaned, slouching down in the chair. What was she supposed to say? How could she explain in only 160 characters?

There wasn't time anyway to compose the perfect text. They were going to a broadway. She had to get ready.

* * *

Catherine saw Wicked that night. But although Catherine saw Wicked, Catherine could not tell you anything about Wicked if you were to ask here, and here is the reason why. Before the play started she saw him: Rhys Tilney. And he saw her. It was absolutely impossible that this should happen. But impossible things just kept happening. And there he was, three rows ahead of her.

Catherine was sandwiched between Jamie and John. And, as fate would have it, at the moment Rhys Tinley turned around and locked eyes with her, John was leaned toward her and she was laughing at something he had said. This was a very unlikely situation for two reasons. Firstly, Catherine was still very mad at John (though he had apologized profusely when she had told him why, and told her how much he had been looking forward to spending the day with her and all sorts of thing like that designed to make her un-angry). Secondly, it was very seldom that John said anything at all to make anyone laugh. This just happened to be that rare moment. And Rhys Tilney turned around and saw her and looked immediately away. And Catherine's heart sank.

So she could not focus on the show. Instead, she was staring at the back of Rhys's head (or trying to – it was difficult with two rows in between them) and planning. When the intermission finally came, she waited in her seat until she saw Rhys get up and begin walking out of the theater. As soon as that happened, she was up and after him. It wasn't creepy-stalker-ish or anything. She just had to say what she had to say.

She caught up to him in the lobby. She had to say his name twice before he turned around and saw her. "Oh hey," was all he said, and he said it coolly. Even though Catherine did not know him well, she was pretty sure that meant he was mad. Usually, he liked to talk.

"I know you hate me," she blurted, "but it wasn't my fault. John said he saw you going out and you were leaving for the day and they were all talking at me to go with them and I didn't know what to do and I left my phone on top of it so I didn't even get your texts until like two hours ago and I'm sorry and trust me I would've way rather been with you." She paused to take a breath. "And Elle," she added. She was more embarrassed now. She wasn't sure she'd made any sense. But Rhys's expression had changed and he was smiling now. That had to be a good sign.

"I have absolutely no idea what you just said," he said. He sounded amused.

"I said I was sorry. It was really just this whole mix-up thing."

He laughed. "Alright, Morland, you can make it up to me by coming out tomorrow. Noon. But you stand me up again and you're going to have a harder time selling me you're nonsensical mix-up stories. I'm not that easy."

"Noon," Catherine repeated happily, feeling the world's axis righting beneath her feet.

As they turned around, Catherine spotted John watching them across the room. Rhys spotted him too. He leaned towards her. "You know, though, I wouldn't blame you were leaning in his direction. I think he's taller than me. And he has the Robert Pattinson hair going. How can I even compete?!" He held up his hands in mock-defeat.

Catherine played along. "With Robert Pattinson hair? I'm not sure you can."

"Just wait till tomorrow, Morland," he said, shooting her his mischievous grin.

Just wait. Catherine barely could.


End file.
